


Empty Coffee Cup

by orphan_account



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Desperation, Omorashi, Watersports, Wetting, this is just a self-indulgent piss fic okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 18:08:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18015776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jumin is absolutely not about to wet himself.





	Empty Coffee Cup

**Author's Note:**

> so maybe I wrote this in one sitting because it came to me at 3 AM and I needed it in my life immediately but like so what

Jumin is absolutely _not_ about to wet himself.

 

He’s a grown man, and not only that, but he’s one in an expensive suit, sitting in an expensive office and waiting on a call from the Oil Prince. He’s not a child, and he can control himself. He wishes he hadn’t drank so much when he was out to lunch with his father earlier, or that he could just get this call over with so he could stop squirming in his seat.

 

He should’ve just gotten up a half hour ago, but no, he thought that the call would actually be _on time_ and now he’s stuck waiting because he knows if he gets up, he’ll miss it. He can’t risk that. But god, his legs are starting to cramp from how much he’s been squirming, twisting his legs around and pressing his thighs together, and he has to go _so bad._

 

He’s been trying to distract himself by signing documents with his fancy new pen, but it’s not working and much to his utter mortification, he ends up having to drop one hand into his lap at some point, pressing his hands between his thighs to hold himself. He doesn’t know if he’s ever had to pee so bad in his life, and the way he’s squeezing himself to keep from releasing his bladder all over himself tells him that his body agrees.

 

He doesn’t know where Assistant Kang went off to, but he’s glad she’s not there because he would absolutely never recover from anyone seeing him like this, squeezing himself with one hand while he rocks his hips back and forth. His brain is telling him _hold it, hold it, hold it,_ but his body is failing and he gasps as he leaks. It’s not enough to show on his dark clothes, but he can feel it andknowing that he just peed, if only a little bit, in his pants just makes him have to go even more.

 

The slightest bit of relief he got only makes it worse, and he keeps telling himself not let go even if it felt good. The cherry on top of the cake is when his phone rings, finally, and it’s what he’s been waiting for and yet he still doesn’t expect it and he leaks again, a tiny stream soaking a wet spot on the front of his pants before he can cut it off and he answers the phone.

 

What he did not account for, however, is how difficult it is to sound normal when he is trying not to wet himself. He’s not really listening to what the Oil Prince has to say, and he knows he should be but he cannot focus on anything except his overfilled bladder. He’s agreeing to everything he’s asked, just trying to get the phone call _over with_ before he pisses on himself more than he already has.

 

He almost manages to get through the phone call, but then he’s saying his goodbyes and he can’t stop himself from leaking more, and he’s gripping his crotch with one hand to stop it but he’s already nearly soaked, his lap wet and it’s threatening to spread to his thighs. He nearly _begs_ every god to please let the prince hang up faster, but he keeps going on and on and it’s taking _so long._

 

Jumin leaks again, peeing uncontrollably into his pants for a few moments and the audio is bad so he knows that he won’t be heard, but he can hear the hissing sound and he cringes. He stops the stream again, but he knows that he absolutely cannot hold it any longer and he’s only thankful when the phone call finally ends.

 

He wants to hold it so bad, because he’s a grown ass adult and he’s a composed one at that, but he’s about to wet himself and he has to get up _now._ He squeezes himself tighter, now with both hands, and he’s begging his body to just hold on so he can stand up and run off but it can’t.

 

He’s so desperate that the mere thought of getting up to finally relieve himself pushes him over the edge. Before he can stop it, he’s desperately peeing into his pants, and it’s spreading down his thighs before he even has time to process it. It’s hissing out of him loudly in the otherwise quiet room, and he can feel it spreading under him, a puddle growing on the chair.

 

His composed brain wants to tell his body to stop it, to cut it off and get up, but he’s already soaked and he needs to go so badly that he just relaxes his body. He has to bite back an embarrassing moan as it finally starts pouring out of him at full force, and he’s _mortified_ but it feels so good. His legs are wet and his hands are wet and his seat is wet, but he can’t stop and a stream breaks through the fabric of his pants, pooling directly onto the chair. He’s wetting himself so desperately, and he’s ruining his expensive suit, but he doesn’t even care. He had to go so bad, and he can deal with it later.

 

It takes him far too long to stop, the stream finally trickling off after he’s soaked himself and the seat under him. He doesn’t think he’s ever peed so much in his life, and his cheeks are red with embarrassment. He knows he has to get up, has to go home eventually, but he’s _soaked_ and he doesn’t know how he’s going to do it without anyone noticing.

 

He’s ashamed that he just wet himself like a child, but he was so desperate that he knew he wouldn’t have made it. His pants are cooling and now that he’s done pissing all over himself, something that felt almost orgasmic, he feels _dirty._ He’s wet and tired and he’s kind of hard for some reason that he refuses to ever look deeper into, and he knows he has to get home as soon as possible to clean himself up.

 

The empty coffee cup on his desk, long forgotten but plenty large enough for someone to void their bladder into, seems to mock his predicament.


End file.
